Stalked by the Stalker
by Gabigail
Summary: A close to home case gets that much closer to home when Elle finds herself the seventh victim of a serial stalker.


Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and its characters are the creation of Jeff Davis and are copy written under CBS (as far as I can tell). No infringement upon their rights is intended. The stories written under the penname Gabigail, however, do belong to me. None are written for profit and are intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Stalked by the Stalker 

An eerie, almost moonless evening brings about a violent storm. Outside the howl of the wind catches trees, violently swinging their branches back and forth, as the storm makes its journey, heavy rain pelts against the windows of the sleeping city. The sleeping city, for the most part; however, for one, sleep definitely has not been an inviting, comforting, warm caress. Like the storm outside her window, twisting and turning herself within her sheets, Elle Greenaway tosses and turns once more for good measure, as another nightmare grips her securely, nearly possessing her in its unforgiving clutches. Loosening its grasp, just long enough for her eyes snap open as the afterglow of illumination from a bolt of lightening plucks her from her latest nightmare.

Allowing herself a moment to breathe, Elle slowly rises, the covers falling around her waist in a jumbled heap. Her dark eyes finally adjust to the blackness surrounding her, which is sporadically illuminated by the flashes of lightening, followed by the inevitable rumble of thunder. Glancing at the clock radio that rests upon the bedside table, reads three in the morning. This is just great! She wants to shout aloud to her empty bedroom. Another sleepless night, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet find the awaiting slippers. Wrapping herself in her housecoat, she makes her way to her door, down the narrow hallway towards the staircase, and creeps downstairs to the living room. Turning on a light, the room is warmed within its soft glow, and she makes her way to the bookcase in search of something to read. Aimlessly pulling a book from the shelf, she sets herself in the chair, drapes a blanket over her legs and begins reading.

Waking to the sun beaming through her window, Elle stretches in the chair, the book that had been left open upon her lap falls to the floor and as she untangles herself from the blanket, picking up the fallen book and places it on the nearby table. Padding to the upstairs bathroom, she grabs a quick shower, dresses and heads back downstairs for a cup of coffee and something to eat. Another day, another case, another nightmare at the dimming of the day, she muses as she finishes her breakfast and wraps up her morning routine before heading out to work. She notices the debris from the evening storm and wonders how they hadn't lost power due to the high winds tossing trees about as though they were merely paper.

"Morning Elle." Reid looks up from his book.

"Morning Spencer." She replies, removing her jacket and placing it on the chairs back, puts her purse in her drawer and sits in her seat ready for whatever the day will bring. Returning from the break area, Morgan sets Reid's coffee mug on his desk with the sugar container and sits himself in his chair.

"Hey Elle." He grins as he opens the file in front of him. "This looks rather interesting." He pauses and she takes his cue to open the file on her desk.

"Doesn't it?" she reads the preliminary autopsy report and looks over the crime scene photos. "An extremely organised killer by the looks of it. Motive?" she glances over at Reid, who seems to be a touch more unsettled than usual. "Hey Reid, you okay?" he bobs his head in response, his mousy brown hair falling from behind his ear, before returning to the file and closing it. Taking another gulp of coffee, Morgan sits back for a long moment.

"I'm not too sure that he's extremely organised." He says as he examines something that would be out of character for an organised killer. "Look here." He points towards a blotch of something on the otherwise pristine carpeting. Elle squints her eyes in thought. "More particular I'd say; and at this point, he was sloppy."

"He only cleaned the surface." She studies the photograph, where only a hint of blood remains.

"Well it is wall to wall carpeting after all." Reid comments as he slides his chair towards Elle's desk.

"Do you know if he took something as a trophy?"

"I'm not sure, it doesn't really say." Morgan looks up in time to catch Hotchner making his way towards Gideon's office. "This can't be good."

"What's the matter?" Reid leans towards Morgan, his hair coming un-tucked from behind his ear again.

"They are being secretive." He sits up in his seat.

"Well maybe they are looking over other case files that may pertain to this case." Elle tilts her head and Morgan's expression finally softens.

"That must be it." He agrees as he makes a few notes on a pad of yellow lined paper. When he catches J.J. making her way towards them, he knows that a course of action has been agreed upon and that they will be briefed on the current situation. Elle has closed her eyes for a moment, resting her forehead on her hand.

"Hotch wants to start around eleven o'clock." No matter the situation, J.J. manages to keep her tone fairly even, especially when it comes to gathering the troops. "Elle are you all right?" she inquires leaning against Morgan's desk.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep very well last night is all." She replies rubbing a kink from her neck. Reid's expression is of concern as J.J. turns and heads towards her office.

"Seriously Elle." He prompts her. She tries a smile and shakes her head to indicate that all is well. The truth is that she is far from fine. It hadn't just been a coincidence that she hasn't been sleeping very well. Once the phone calls began, she wondered how he had managed to find her. She wondered how and why he had tracked her all the way from New York, to Seattle, and now Virginia. She wondered why it was every time she was just starting to feel at ease, just able to breath, if only for a moment to be comfortable in her surroundings, he managed to remind her that he still existed. Sighing slightly, she cannot stop the physical freezing cold shiver as it wound its way down her spine, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on its end.

"You don't look like yourself." Morgan chimes in and she glares at him, and then turns her stone expression towards Reid.

"I'm fine really, I just need to get a few solid hours of sleep." Her reply unconvincing, but what could she do?

"I know that it's not my place to pry, however, you need to talk to someone about not sleeping." Morgan's suggestion appears to fall upon deaf ears, but he is not deterred in the least. "Gideon is the one that you should speak to about it."

"Gideon?"

"He has helped many of us with nightmares."

"Oh, you think I'm having trouble sleeping due to nightmares. I'm fine, really, I'll take care of it." She plucks a pen and notepad from her desk drawer, closes the folder and heads towards the conference room. Escaping their inquires is a far superior method than trying to find a way of answering them. How does one go about telling them about a psycho who has managed to once again track her down and has been calling her on a nightly basis; and despite the fact that she had the best home security system installed, she couldn't put the thought that he may have even been in her home.

With their introduction to the new case complete, Gideon stands and takes his place, square shoulders, at the head of the room.

"We'll meet at the precinct where we will probably be assigned a working team and then we'll go from there." His tone is authoritative, as it usually is, but it feels a bit abrasive in Elle's ears, if she had only heard what he had said and not just his tone. "Elle?" she looks up at him startled.

"Gideon?"

"The rest of you are dismissed." He turns attention back to Elle. "May I have a word with you?" she looks up at him and nods slightly, hoping that the embarrassment that she feels within for not giving him her full attention isn't showing, yet from the look on his face, its written all over hers. Looking down at her hands for a moment as if in deep contemplation she awaits the lecture that she is sure will follow.

"Is there something bothering you?" closing the door, he sits himself a few seats from her and she fiddles with her pen for a moment. "Elle, you know you can talk to me." She knows that he is using a tactic best used on un-co-operative un-subs. Turning to gaze upon him from the corner of her eye, she continues to stare at her notepad and the notes scribbled upon it.

"Its nothing really." she looks up at him, more to convince herself rather than him.

"How can this be nothing?"

"We had better get going, or they will begin to wonder where we are." She makes a move to stand.

"Elle." His tone places her firmly back in her seat. She tries to read his expression, but realises that he, without a doubt, is probably the master of maintaining a façade. "Just keep in mind that if you need me. I'm here." He adds with a rich gentleness in his tone, matching the look in his eyes. She allows the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips show as she collets her belongings, heads to her desk, and Reid and Morgan, who have waited for her to catch up.

"Did either of you tell him?" she demands in a hushed tone. Reid looks over at Morgan, who returns his perplexed gaze. "How did he know?"

"Elle, you forget how much he does know." Morgan picks up his jacket and quickly drapes it over his muscular, lean frame. Reid follows suit, adding his warn leather messenger bag, slinging it diagonally across his chest. Elle slips her jacket on and gets her purse before following the rest of the team to the elevators.

The drive is quiet as Hotchner guides the black SUV to the local police station. Morgan sits beside him perusing the file and familiarising himself with its contents. Looking at the last photograph, he notices the extreme utilisation of violence employed. Essentially, anything that might identify the victim had been destroyed, which included her face that had been struck several times with a blunt object that not only disfigured her beyond recognition, also removed her teeth, making a dental impression near impossible. Gideon sits in the back seat behind Morgan also looking over a file, Elle sits beside him and Reid beside her, all deep in thought.

"How many women has he stalked?" Reid looks up from his file. "We only have the ones that are deceased." Elle glances at him quickly and then at Gideon who seems to take a deep breath.

"Authorities are unsure as to the exact number the un-sub stalked. We just know that he has claimed the lives of five women and probably going for the sixth as we speak." He adds as Hotchner pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine. Entering the station, the team is once again face to face with the familiar vibe of good and bad, as officers take individuals to be booked or to a cell until the arrival of a lawyer. Stopping in front of the evidence pasted board, Gideon stares at how the information is organised before finding a seat next to Hotchner.

"I'm captain Luke McNeil. At first, we thought it was your average stalking case, a few women reported cases of being observed in their homes or apartments, even followed as they jogged, went to work, or ran errands. In the beginning, we took their descriptions and set them aside, nothing of consequence appeared to be in the works. However, once three turned up missing and finally dead, we pulled out their complaints and noticed that the descriptions left behind by the deceased were similar. It's then that John Thompson suggested that I call you." McNeil paces the short distance of the front of the room.

"I cannot bear the thought of having anymore dead girls turn up. We have to get him before he has the chance to strike again." His lips form a tight line as he stops pacing. Clearing his throat, he continues to present the information that they have. "From the information that we have gathered, our suspect appears to be working within a particular grid. We do not know for certain if he resides in the area in question, however, his victims all live in the Garrisonville area."

"Providing the theory itself revolves around most un-subs hunting away from their residence is true, I don't suppose that it could be a possibility that he resides just outside of the grid?" Reid looks at the police captain and then down at his notes, scribbling something.

"Well suspects usually hunt in familiar territory, so if he does not reside there now, the evidence appears to support the theory that he may have lived there, or perhaps at the very least has been stalking about." He completes his thought before turning to Hotchner, who with a quick curt nod stands.

"The photographs of the crime scenes show an extreme obsession with perfection. Everything that he has left behind is only what he wants us to know. Even while not in the picture, he wants to have some control in some way, shape or form." Hotchner crosses his arms across his chest as he often does when deep in thought. "We will have a better chance of finding him if we examine the previous crime scenes. It isn't as though we will have anything new to work with."

"Until we have another kidnapping victim." Reid utters quietly under his breath. Elle turns towards him and gives him a very unimpressed glare. "What? It's an unfortunate reality, but at this point we have nothing."

"I realise that Reid, but while you go about suggesting that we require another victim to do our job, then I suppose we aren't doing our job properly. Right?"

"I guess and yet at the same time, we need newer evidence that can assist us in pinpointing the exact un-sub that we are searching for."

"Here we go." Morgan grins and sits back in his seat. "The needle in a needle stack. Am I right Reid?"

"I realise that it's a difficult concept for some to grasp, considering that the needle in the haystack has been the norm for so many years, possibly even centuries." He stands and leans against a desk waiting. With a loud sigh, Gideon removes his offending glasses, rubs at his temples, and finally speaks.

"Right now we'll get Garcia in on identifying our un-sub through the data base. Morgan, you give her a shout and fax her the composite."

"I'm on it." He gets up, grabs a file from one of the officers beside him and heads towards a fax machine.

"J.J. will remain at Quantico until we have something for her to present to the media, that may take a few hours or a couple of days and she can hold a press conference from there fast enough, and if need be she can meet us here." He checks his watch.

"If the pattern holds." Reid cuts in.

"Pattern?" Hotchner looks up from his notepad.

"So far, our un-sub has kidnapped and murdered six women in a matter of nine days, I would presuppose that he will be at the very least kidnapping his next victim as we speak, or this evening."

"That gives us less then two days to get an accurate profile." Gideon hisses. "Not good enough."

"Reid, you and Morgan will evaluate the first crime scene. Hotch?" he merely nods to confirm his lone trip to the second. "When you're done." He pauses.

"I'll go over the rest of the complaints." Gideon stops himself.

"Good idea. Elle, you're with me." He barks as he grabs his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck and heading out with Elle close behind.

"Maybe if we get word of a kidnapping, we can prolong her life by holding a massive search party. You once said that the average un-sub could not resist the opportunity, or temptation to further manipulate the situation." Elle continues to watch the road as the officer drives them to the third crime scene.

"Hang on a sec." He picks up his phone and quickly dials a number. "Hotch, Elle suggested that we put together a search party at the first sign of a kidnapped girl."

"Are you sure?"

"It could buy us some time. Right now that's a luxury that we don't have."

"Okay, I'll let J.J. know. If he stays within the parameters of his profile, it definitely will not be too far from the last three. She and Garcia can put together working grids, which will save us time." Gideon grunts his reply and presses the end button before placing the cell back in its place on his belt.

"Will that be enough?" she looks at him intently.

"For right now, it's all we have." He replies trying to offer her verbal comfort. She sighs and opens the file, looking at the photographs of where their victim had been located. A couple running through the wooded area stumbled upon the body and called local authority. The yellow caution tape still attached to various trees and gently dancing in the breeze.

"Elle, what is it?" Gideon inquires, sensing the sudden shiver that runs down her petite frame that she is unable to hide from him.

"It's nothing really. I just have this horrible feeling is all." She replies as she opens the file and stops just short of the location the body had been located. There was no way that she could tell him that she felt as though someone had just walked over her proverbial grave, which is usually a good indication of something going terribly wrong. Finishing up, Gideon and Elle make their way back to the car and to the station to converse with the rest of the team and their individual findings.

"I'm not buying that for a moment!" McNeil exclaims as Gideon and Elle walk into the squad room. Hotchner sits back in his seat, his posture is commanding despite the fact that he is sitting. "One person capable of these grizzly murders?"

"He takes a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction by his actions and the result of said action. He's of an organised mind, he has probably, or most likely has experienced abuse during his childhood into his adolescences and as a result, he devalues his victims."

"It's very sexual. He is extremely domineering. The likelihood of his enjoying, even getting off on the pain and suffering he inflicts upon his victim is probably what feeds his desire to continue his behaviour. It is also possible that he views it as payback for something that had been done to him during the social developmental years of his adolescence." Elle adds in a level tone. Gideon stands beside her for a long moment, before turning back to the board and rearranging a few of the photographs so that they make more sense. "Our un-sub will no doubt strike again and it may be as we speak." She sits in the vacant seat beside Hotchner, crossing her legs and flopping the file open upon her lap. Gideon thinks for a moment.

"You forget that these are crimes of opportunity as well." He massages the back of his neck for a moment before leaning against the doorframe.

"Elle, he's all yours." Morgan announces from the door as he and Reid bring up the rear and find seats. "Walking through the brush, I have a strong sense of sexual dominance."

"With that the dehumanisation of the victim by attempting to destroy her identity." Reid looks up at the board and quickly shuffles a few more photos from their assigned crime scene, narrowing their scope. Elle agrees with a curt nod and then her eyebrows furrow.

"What is it?" Hotchner reaches out towards her and taps her shoulder.

"We have a profile, no un-sub."

"Hang on a minute." Morgan says as he flips his phone open. "Morgan." He says in a tone full of authority.

"Hey there sugar pie. I think I have a few un-subs for you. That fax wasn't the greatest and well there's still at least a twenty percent chance that we're right off the mark." She states as she flips through her many screens for the needed information.

"Do you have names and addresses? We can go from there." He grabs a sheet of paper and begins jotting down the information. "Thanks for the information. If you find anything else, give me a call."

"You got it." She replies as they close the connection.

"Garcia just got us a list of potential un-subs." His grin starts at one ear and ends at the other. "She'll keep it up until we catch him." He adds with a sigh of relief. Making his way to the photocopier, Morgan quickly makes copies and hands them out.

"It's getting late." Hotchner states, receiving his copy and tucking it into his file.

"That doesn't mean we should call it a night." Reid protests. Everyone's eyes rest upon the youngster. "How can we just call it a night when our un-sub is running loose? How can you go to bed with a clear conscious?" he demands.

"Reid, relax. Thus far, we have yet to hear word of missing young women. The night shift will be starting and I'm certain that they will keep us informed if anyone is reported missing." Morgan leans in towards his young partner, who silently nods his understanding. McNeil indicates a silent agreement as well and without further protest, the team agrees to call it a night and the team drives back to Quantico to pick up their cars and make their way home.

Gideon opens the door and is once again welcomed by an empty home. It's home nonetheless and he locks the door behind and in a quick motion removes his jacket and steps out of his shoes, leaving them on the mat and hanging the jacket in the closet. Turning on a light here and there as he makes his way through his home, he heads straight to the kitchen, only stopping in the living room to put on the television to catch the latest headlines. Flipping on the light, he heads to the fridge to see about something to eat. Grabbing the fixings of a quick omelette, he finds the needed utensils and begins by chopping the veggies, shredding the cheese, and finally cracks the eggs and whisks the runny mess before transferring it into the frying pan.

Elle sighs loudly closing the front door behind and making her way through the dark house into the kitchen, where she finds the light switch and thinks about making something quick for dinner. Quickly finding a can of cream of mushroom soup, she opens the can and prepares it with milk, careful to whisk out the lumps before setting on the stove on low and finding a crusty roll and the makings of a toasted chicken sandwich. Standing at the counter, she cannot help the feeling of being watched and looks out the window at the darkened backyard. Returning to preparing dinner, she brushes the thought from her head and washes the lettuce and tomato.

Reid finishes cleaning up the dirty dishes and straightens up his apartment before settling himself in front of his computer to check his email and go over a few chapters on a follow up paper in comparative behavioural patterns. Opening a few text books, he lays them open on the floor at his feet, picks one up here skimming it's contents, and another there gleaning information that will assist in strengthening his thesis. A few hours pass and glancing at the clock, he realises that he has just enough time to have a shower before the eleven o'clock news. Leaving his hair damp, he sits himself in his favourite spot on the sofa and turns on the news.

"Haley, you'll never believe this," Hotchner just stops himself from yelling and waking their little girl who sleeps contently in her own crib in her bedroom across the hall.

"What is it dear?" she inquires from the doorway, her nightgown covered by a thick, soft terrycloth robe, tied loosely around her slender waist. She crosses her arms and gives him a look. "I thought you were no working while at home."

"I know, but this is totally uncalled for." She observes him for a long moment as he watches the news reclined in their bed, so intent on the broadcast that a bomb could go off and he would be none the wiser. Sighing, she lets him have his moment, watching as he jots down a few notes before closing the door behind, untying her robe, letting it slide down her arms, and draping it over the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hotchner turns off the television, and turns his attention to his wife, waiting for her to lie back so that he can wrap a strong arm around her slender waist and press himself against her.

"Good night my angel." He whispers in her ear, he knows that she is beaming.

"Good night my love." She sighs contently and closes her eyes.  
---

Sitting around the conference room table with a complete list of un-subs, closer to becoming suspects, Hotchner clears his throat as an indication that he and Gideon are ready to begin.

"Garcia has managed to gather a fairly substantial list surrounding our potential un-sub from the artist sketch provided yesterday. Today we will systematically eliminate those who do not fit the profile and hopefully shorten the list." He glances over at Elle whom he is certain had not heard a word he said, as she sits back and caresses the sheet of paper in front of her, he knows that her mind is on something else. "Once we have our short list, we will go from there. We're meeting local authority in an hour, so I expect everyone in the lobby at nine forty-five."

"Will I be of any help?" J.J. looks up from her own notes. "I happened to catch the news last night and I think that I will inevitably have to hold a press conference, if nothing more to curb the rumours that seem to have cropped up."

"You'll also be able to assist with shortening our list." He turns towards Gideon for additions. He shakes his head. "Well then. Lobby at nine forty-five." He motions for their dismissal.

"It surprises me that he isn't keeping to his pattern." Reid sits himself in his chair and picks up a pen. Morgan looks at him for a moment.

"That's assuming that there is a pattern. Most un-subs don't realise, unless of course it's all been planned, that they are adhering to a pattern."

"What if he is adhering to some sort of pattern and it's only a matter of time before he strikes?" she stops herself short as her cell rings. "Greenaway." A moment of silence before she presses the end button and lets the phone fall to the desk.

"Elle what is it?" Reid's expression further softens.

"Nothing." She turns towards the file on her desk and opens it to the list, wondering which one it is.

"Don't give me that Elle. We have worked together far too long for that to be nothing." Morgan stands, makes his way towards her desk, and sits on the edge beside her. "There is something going on."

"It's nothing." Her reply calm and emotionless, which he knew to be something brewing within her that she would eventually share, however, he would have to remain patient. "May I look at your list?" he hands her his section of the list. Like hers, it had thirty people on it. "This is ridiculous! We should further divide it so that each has say five to ten people on it. The faster we catch this guy the better." She hands him back the piece of paper and goes through the contents of her file once more, comparing the information provided with her personal notes.

"You're getting too involved Elle." Reid vocalises his observation and she looks up at them. "We will stop him from hurting anyone else." He tries to comfort her with a smile. She turns to Morgan.

"That may indeed be the case, however, I would like to get him before he finds his next victim." The rest of her thoughts interrupted once more by her cell; and just like the previous time, the voice on the other end is one that she does not recognise. Putting the phone in its place on her belt, she closes the file, gets her jacket and purse, picks up the file, and heads to the elevators.

"What's wrong with her?" Reid watches as she waits.

"Give her the space she needs. At this particular moment, she is deeply troubled. Granted, it may take a while, but she will tell us." Morgan replies as they gather their belongings and take the next elevator down to the lobby.

Hotchner and Gideon aren't surprised in the least to find McNeil standing in front of the evidence board, files in hand, trying to make sense of something that obviously isn't their forte.

"I moved a few photos." Gideon gives the captain one of his looks. "If you were to look at it this way, you'll see the thread that binds them together."

"You will also notice the pattern established by our un-sub." Reid adds as they find seats.

"Un-sub?" the officer mumbles as he finds a vacant seat.

"Unidentified subject. Perhaps in your case the suspect." Hotchner begins. "Garcia has managed to come up with a list of potential un-subs based on the faxed copy of the artists sketch. We have well over a hundred and fifty people or so to interview. We originally split the list into thirty each, however, seeing that time is not a luxury that we have at the moment, we have further divided the initial list."

"Hotch don't we have a more concrete method?" Morgan pipes in. "If time is our enemy, which usually is the case. Don't we want to locate this un-sub to avoid." He trails off.

"With what? All we have is a composite sketch that we cannot be sure is one hundred percent, and six dead women."

"All I'm saying is that there has to be a better way of nabbing him."

"Sometimes taking a bit of time can make all the difference." Gideon gives Morgan a stern look and he sighs, sitting back and scribbling something onto his notepad.

"Here are your new lists. Please, Elle, J.J. be careful." He says as he hands them their list. Elle tilts her head.

"We will." J.J. replies as she accepts her sheet and Elle's cell phone rings again.

"Greenaway." Again, the voice one that she does not recognise and she decides to hang up on the mystery caller. Her phone rings again. This time Gideon grabs it from her hands and immediately notices that her fingers are like ice.

"Gideon." His tone one of command and the caller on the other end hangs up. "Private name and number?" his inquiry answered by her slight nod. "You and I need to have a word. Hotch are we ready to roll?"

"I think so, any questions?" he's statement of the rhetorical nature, so he's met with a sea of nods and the gathered group make their way out.

"Is there a place that we can talk?" Gideon asks McNeil, who directs them to his office. "Thank you."

Closing the door he gestures for Elle to have a seat, which she does, Gideon on the other hand decides to lean himself against the desk in front of her.

"This has gone on long enough. You look as though the blood has drained from your entire body, and your fingers are like ice." He tilts his head and waits for an answer. She fixes her gaze on the lamp in front of her. "I know the kind of woman you are." Turning her gaze upon him, she opens her mouth as if to say something, but stops herself short. "You are the take charge type. The one who knows she can handle anything, and can. However, I'm almost one hundred percent that those woman felt the same way."

"Nothing is wrong. I have not been sleeping very well. I think it's the change in weather or something." She lies; not a good idea when dealing with Gideon, who can see right through the most innocent of glances.

"Elle, as I have said before, I will say again. If you need an ear, I'm here." He smiles warmly and she returns his smile with on of her own.

"I had better get going. I don't know about you, but I have a list of un-subs to work through." She stands and makes her way to the door. "See you back at Quantico." Adding with a wink before making her way out of the office, Gideon watching her from exuding the confidence he knows is inside. Sighing deeply, he follows suit and makes his way to an awaiting car.

The hunt against time for their un-sub continues as each team casually interview the names on their lists, scratching those off who didn't fit their carefully carved out profile, and circling those who did, adding a question mark here and there for those they were unsure where to place. As daylight subsides into dusk, they meet back at the precinct to update all the teams involved in the case and with a quick summation, the BAU head back to Quantico.

"Have a good evening." Gideon says heading inside to work on a few things as the rest of the team head to their perspective cars and home.

Elle happily takes a breath as she closes the front door behind her, thankfully separating her from the case at hand. Quickly picking up her messages, yet at the same time wishing she had not, for Gideon answering her cell phone had angered the voice that filled her machine with messages. With a loud sigh, she jogs upstairs, two at a time and changes into her sweats. Making her way downstairs, she grabs her MP3 player and keys from the table in the foyer and leaves her home for a jog through the nearby ravine. The music in her ears is never loud enough to drown out the sounds around her and she lets her feet take her through the wooded area.

Not far from her a twig snaps, and the leaves underfoot crunch, but those are the sounds that she misses as she passes a clearing that leads into another brushy area in an attempt to clear her mind, feel free. Passing by another jogger, they exchange quick nods and she continues to push herself towards the next clearing, where she usually takes a moment to take a breath, a moment to reconnect. This evening is no different from those in the past, the moon overhead is a mere sliver and the stars seem to burn like bright candles. Inhaling the scent of the night, she changes the song and heads back towards the ravines mouth and the regular sounds of the city at night. Only tonight, her feet will not take her safely home, as someone strikes the back of her head with a blunt object and quickly scoops her up in his arms.

"Has anyone heard from Elle?" Gideon inquires from his open office door. Morgan and Reid look up from their desks.

"No, nothing. This isn't like her at all." He adds as Reid hangs over his shoulder reading the newspaper. Gideon dashes off to Hotchner's office.

"Nothing as yet. I have tried her cell again and left her another message at home to call us. Something tells me." He pauses.

"That she isn't there to get her messages and she doesn't have her cell." Gideon rolls his eyes. "I asked her to talk to me. I asked her what was going on and she, unconvincingly of course, said that everything was fine. That she hadn't been sleeping well."

"That's Elle for you. Never trusting you enough to let you in, or let you help."

"Even when you've worked with her for as long as we have. You would think she would have told me about the phone calls."

"Phone calls?" Hotchner's eyebrows furrow.

"I had Garcia track her phone records for the past couple of weeks. Everything appears normal, except for three weeks prior to our working on this case."

"You don't think that our un-sub has her do you?" Gideon's lips form a solid line as he shakes his head and sighs. "You do." Lips open as if to speak, he only manages a slow nod.

"That's why there hasn't been any new reports of missing women. Our un-sub was stalking Elle the whole time." Gideon turns his wrist to check the time.

"Which means that we only have a little over six hours to find her." his voice nearly cracks at the fact that one of his own is in dire need of their assistance and they literally have nothing to go on. "We have to assemble teams to comb the area. Why didn't she take her cell with her, at the very least Garcia could have used the global positioning system to track her down."

"Gideon, we have to remain calm."

"Remain calm, Elle is out there somewhere and there isn't a damn thing we can do for her." Gideon storms out of the room in a huff. Morgan glances over at Reid for a moment.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he inquires as he opens his desk drawer, retrieving a small phone directory and thumbing through it.

"You have Elle's address?" Reid moves towards his desk to pick up his jacket. "What are we waiting for?" Morgan jots it on a piece of paper and puts it in his pocket. Gideon and Hotchner emerge from their offices in time to catch the duo at the top of the stairs.

"Where are you off to?" Hotchner's tone stern, matching his expression.

"To see if there is any evidence at her residence that could help us." Reid replies. Gideon sighs and holds up a hand for them to wait for him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hotchner demands.

"I'm going to help them. Its far better than sitting around here hoping to hear something." He replies as he slips his arms into his leather jacket. "Let's go." He steps onto the elevator and they descend. Hotchner stares at the closed doors for a moment before returning to his office and making the necessary calls.

"Hey Hotch, is there anything that I can help you with?" J.J. inquires from his open door. He looks up from the files that are open on his desk and sighs heavily.

"I don't know. The longer we wait, the longer we can't find her, the worse it's going to be." He rests his elbows on his desk and cradles his head in his hands.

"Hotch, I'll bet that Elle is perfectly capable of getting through this. She's better equipped then most women I know."

"He shouldn't have gotten her in the first place." He snaps. "I'm sorry." She gives him a warm look to try and offer what comfort she can, knowing that words are useless in the situation and waiting really is all they can do. "Maybe Gideon is right. Doing something is probably the best course of action." He pauses and she sits herself in the chair across from him. "I've called everyone I can think of. They have nothing of use to help because we still haven't narrowed down the suspect."

"Maybe not, but we still have the list of suspects. Couldn't we go over that again, maybe Garcia could give us more then their addresses and we could try them again?"

"Not enough time."

"There has to be something, something that we are not seeing." She looks up as though it will assist her in the thought process. "They are going to Elle's home. Why not try and think positively, maybe they will find something." She tries to maintain her warm expression, hoping that will help. Standing she hands him the file she needed a signature on and makes her way back to her office and the ton of questions and lack of answers.

"I told you to never hang up on me! I called back and some character named Gideon answered. Who is he? Your lover!" the voice on the tape sounding sharp and full of anger before the loud click. Morgan's lips twist into the Chester cats smile and Reid knows exactly what he must be thinking.

"Garcia?"

"You better believe it. She will be able to tell you where it's at." He replies triumphantly. Gideon walks through the main level, taking in the soft décor, not what he had imagined from his tough as nails co-worker. Yet at the same time there was always something that she had managed to hide from all of them, admittedly himself included in the equation. That she possesses the softer, more feminine, vulnerable side that the job tends to wear away. He stops in the living room and picks up the book, left from one of her countless sleepless nights. A book of poetry, Browning no less, he almost chuckles as he settles the book in its place before turning and making his way upstairs. It feels foreign to him to walk through her home uninvited searching for clues that would assist them in locating her.

Making his way upstairs, he continues to take in every detail. The door to her bedroom is wide open and he hovers upon the threshold. A person's bedroom is their sanctuary, a place to feel safe, a place to relax, and forget the pressures of the day. Gingerly taking that first step, he does a three hundred and sixty degree turn to completely take in the room.

"I'm presuming that she listened to her messages before coming up here to change." He closes his eyes for a moment. Reid moves to stand beside him so he has the same perspective.

"Her work clothes are on her bed."

"Shoes on the mat downstairs. Her closet is open." Gideon observes as he notices the place where a pair of running shoes no doubt once resided. "She went for a run. She wasn't taken from here."

"She must have gone running in the ravine." Reid suggests as they make their way back downstairs, finding Morgan still walking through the home as though trying to do his thing, however, he is unable to concentrate.

"He didn't break in. He waited for her to be away from that which is familiar."

"The ravine would be familiar." Reid observes.

"By daylight it would be, however, by moonlight, it would give the stalker the advantage." Morgan cringes at the thought of what she must be enduring. "This isn't helping. Let's hit the ravine." He pulls Reid and they make their way to the car.  
---

The pounding has finally begun to subside and Elle tries to open her eyes, only to find them covered with a thick blindfold that smells like lavender. Shifting slightly, she feels a softness underneath her, which must be a bed, cot, or sofa as she attempts to free her hands, which are bound behind her and pressing into the material.

"You shouldn't do that." The voice is similar to the one that left the messages and she turns her head towards it. "Just so you know. Screaming will do you no good either because this room has been sound proofed. Can't have the neighbours hearing." He adds with his lips suddenly inches from her ear.

"Which is why you didn't gag me."

"Correct."

"So what do you want?"

"I don't see how you think that you're in the position of bargaining. I will have what I want." he pauses, "all in due time." She shudders at the thought and wonders if her team will notice her absence and try to find her. She can sense that he is still hovering over her and wonders when he will begin whatever it is that he has in store for her.

"Such soft, beautiful skin." He says as he caresses her cheek, she tries to turn her head away from his touch, he merely continues to trace her jaw line in much the same manner as a lover. His finger then travels down her neck towards her clavicle and he stops himself, turning away.

"What? You don't like what you see?" she attempts to taunt him, see how far she can push his buttons, try and get a feel of her abductor.

"I don't want to shorten the experience for either of us." His voice has taken on a very sensual tone. She can feel the material across her eyes become moist as it absorbs the tears that she hopes he cannot see.  
---

Already winding their way down the path once and on the return trip, Morgan senses that they probably will not find anything and looks at his watch hoping that Hotchner has. Trying to clear his mind of worse case scenarios, he continues to bring up the rear and observe his surroundings in an attempt to assume the frame of mind of their un-sub. They had already passed the clearing once, but this time something stops Reid dead in his tracks.

"Did you find something?" Gideon turns around and observes the young profiler, who seems to be in deep contemplation. Tucking the strand of loose hair behind his ear, Reid slowly turns himself around, looking up at the now bright blue sky.

"I think he grabbed her here." He announces then looks down at his feet. Nestled within the dirt, something glimmers, catching Gideon's eye. A gold chain, one that he is sure belongs to Elle. It is obvious to them that others had not noticed the chain, as it appears to have been pounded, no doubt by joggers, into the ground and covered only slightly by a few fallen leaves. Ever so gently, Gideon recovers the broken chain.

"Wait."

"Pardon."

"The locket is missing." Reid observes as he begins to look around for the embellished oval trinket.

"Reid, I doubt that you'll find it." Morgan states, handing Gideon a small plastic quasi-zip lock bag. He then puts the chain into the baggie and stands. "Even if you do, it's a sure bet that it won't be in very good condition." Morgan sighs as he continues his private observation of the crime scene. They cannot quarantine it; its become far too contaminated at this point.

"What is it Morgan?"

"There are still pieces missing from the equation. It's just not right." He replies as they continue down the trail.

"Mark my words, we will find her." Gideon continues ahead, looking for what he did not know, only that they needed something more concrete than a broken chain that could very well belong to someone else. He needed, wanted more then a broken chain. With a loud sigh, he stops.

"She stopped here and turned around."

"How can you be sure?" Morgan notices how the brush caresses the path and immediately surmises that their un-sub would have worn dark clothing, which, it is obvious, would give him the upper hand in hiding amongst the brush when a slivered moon provides very little light in comparison to even a quarter.

"I'm not sure, it just seems that she stopped here and probably turned around to go home. She reached the point where you found the chain and that's all we have." He kicks in frustration at the pebbles underfoot. Morgan finds himself walking the brushy path for a moment as though he were the un-sub. Retracing his steps towards the area where they have concluded that Elle was kidnapped.

"Gideon!" he calls out after his discovery. Gideon and Reid follow his voice and stand beside him. "Do you think that this will help?" he inquires moving to reveal the indentation of a scuffle in the muddier dirt. Reid looks at it for a moment. He bends down and fingers the earth.

"Isn't this?"

"The locket." Gideon gulps for air.

"Hey Gideon, are you okay?" Morgan stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine. I think we ought to head back. Maybe Hotchner's found something." They walk up the pathway towards the SUV.  
---

Elle can hear the radio in the background as she continues in her struggle to free her hands. She stops in her attempt to escape as she hears the lock click and the door moans its protest as it opens.

"I brought you something to eat. You will need your strength for what I have in mind for you." He keeps his voice level, making it incredibly difficult for her to get a read on her abductor.

"What do you want?"

"I don't have the time to explain." He is careful, thoughtful even as he sits her up. "I hope it isn't too hot." She feels the spoon at her lips.

"What is it?"

"Mushroom soup. I was unable to figure out what kind of sandwich you had made." She finds it odd that he would care what kind of food she liked. Letting him feed her a bit.

"It's good. Wouldn't it be easier to untie my hands and let me feed myself. You mentioned already that there is no way for me to escape." She hears the spoon being set on a table and hopes that he is contemplating her request. She may not be able to escape, but at least having the use of her hands could help and then she could get rid of the blindfold. Maybe even get a glimpse of her captor. Hearing him stand, she takes his pacing as a good sign that he might actually give into her request.

"You'll see me and then I will have to kill you. That's why the others had to die." He rambles.

"They saw what you looked like?" she pauses. "How does that translate into their deaths?"

"If you saw me, you would understand." He seems to pace the length of the room. One, two, three, four, five, six steps. One, two, three, four, five, six steps back. A compulsive pace as she hears six more steps in one direction and six on the return.

"You're going to kill me anyways, right?" she prompts him. Hoping not to agitate him too much, which would no doubt result in speeding up his routine. "I mean, what does it matter?" she cannot help but wonder if the man now pacing the room like a caged animal looks like their average un-sub, or if somehow he is different.

"Stop it!" he yells loudly, obviously illustrating a point. "I tried to be kind to you, you've shot me down more times then I can count." He stops himself, seems to move the table away from her and grabs her shoulders. She closes her eyes as she feels his breath, upon her ear, then his lips grazing the sensitive lobe and working its way along her jaw towards her lips. She tires to twist away from him, not wanting to let him gain that much access to her, yet at the same time, unable to stop him, for his strong fingers grab her neck at the base of her chin and jerk her lips towards his. "You want me. You've always wanted me." He whispers repeatedly as he continues to brush her face, oddly enough with tender, butterfly like kisses.  
---

"Anything?" Hotchner calls as the team exits the elevator.

"Nothing, but we did find her necklace" Reid holds out the plastic baggie.

"Which only reveals that she was there." Morgan sighs heavily as they head into the conference room. "We're out of time." He drops himself into one of the high backed chairs and then sits himself back in the seat, resting his head against the chairs back. Gideon stands beside the window, staring out as the sun makes its decent.

"No word from the kidnapper?" Reid inquires sitting himself a few seats down from Morgan.

"Nothing. Garcia has been working through our un-sub list and still hasn't come up with anything." J.J. enters the room with more files. "McNeil sent these in hopes of assisting us in locating her." Hotchner slams the file shut in his hands, which causes Gideon's intense gaze to fall upon him.

"The old Fellows home." Reid stares at him for a moment.

"It lies just on the edge of the ravine." Morgan looks over at Gideon, who turns from the window.

"Let's hope that we're not too late." He whisks past Hotchner with Reid and Morgan on his heels. J.J. looks to Hotchner for his nod of approval.

"Gideon, hold that elevator!" he calls as he and J.J. quickly catch up to their team.  
---

"Please stop." Elle's voice a mere gasp and lost as his mouth forcefully covers hers. He pushes her back upon the bed as her head continues to spin, her thoughts revolving around the hope that somehow they will find her. That somehow they will stop this monster from completing whatever he has in store for her, because at this very moment all she can see is a painful death. His hands run up and down her body as she tries in vain to squirm away from his caresses, each one becoming increasingly intense.

"You're so beautiful." His voice now raspy, caught in his throat along with his obvious arousal, as he continues to fumble in the exploration of her clothed body. At least he was taking his time, which she hoped would give her team an advantage. That is of course assuming that they noticed her not showing up for work. Too bad my ankles are tied a good knee would grant me an escape, she muses as she once again turns her lips away from his and finds callused fingers forcing her to hold her head still. Finally hoping for the best, yet at the same time preparing for the worse, Elle lets the tears fall where they may.  
---

"This is the place?" Gideon hardly hears the answer, literally flying towards the old building. Morgan is a close second, ready to kick in the door, which he does without waiting for the go ahead, knowing that they don't have a moment to waste. With guns drawn, the team enter the home. Reid head's upstairs with J.J. They check the bedrooms, the bathroom and find the entrance to the attic. Hotchner and Morgan quickly check the living room, study and kitchen as Gideon makes his way to the basement. It is incredibly dark and he has to let his eyes adjust. Hearing a muffled male voice, he tries to follow it. It's not your average basement, it consists of a long corridor with many doors. Elbowing each door as he passes, he finally finds the one where he heard the voice.

"Going to play the virgin are we?" his voice louder this time.

"Stop, No." he hears Elle's voice as she struggles with the un-sub. Taking a deep breath he pushes the door open wider almost sure he had been prepared for what lay beyond. Obviously, he wasn't and the knife that flew at him grazes his arm, cutting into him.

"FBI! Try that again and I will shoot you!" Elle sighs one of the biggest sighs of relief that she has in a long while.

"Listen to him man!" Morgan's voice fills the tense void of silence. Unable to assist her team in any way, feeling his weight finally lift off her body, she blindly swings her legs in the hope of striking him. A good move, which put him on the ground, Morgan and Gideon still not prepared for his reaction. Pretending to be injured, Morgan steps closer to their un-sub. "Put your hands where we can see them." He orders the un-sub who manages to throw what appears to Gideon, from his angle, a wild punch, which upon contact with Morgan's leg is another knife. Morgan howls in pain as the knife cuts into his calf muscle, blood soaking the leg of his trousers.

"Don't shoot him Gideon! I know how good a shot you are." Hotchner calls from the door with Reid behind him. With all the commotion around her, Elle takes her chance and in a very quick, fluid motion, manages to fling herself at him and they crash to the floor, the other knife in his hand skidding across the cement floor. Hotchner grabs their un-sub, quickly cuffing him and roughly pushing him upstairs to the awaiting police outside. Reid manages to help Morgan to his feet and acting as a crutch, they hobble back upstairs.

"Gideon?" her voice is small as she feels her bindings being removed as quickly as he can manage. Lastly, he removes the blindfold and she lets the tears of joy and relief to still be alive, make their way down her cheeks. "You've been hurt." She reaches out and fingers the slash in his shirt.

"It's just a scratch." His usually intense façade lifts as he smiles. Reaching for one of the knives, she cuts the shirtsleeve and uses the material that had been her blindfold to stop the bleeding. "What did he do to you?" his voice full of concern as he stands and helps her to her feet.

"Nothing that I want to remember." She replies as the police make their way to the fresh crime scene and they head upstairs and towards freedom. Emerging from the home, Reid dashes to be sure his colleges are okay and assists Gideon in helping Elle down the stairs towards an awaiting ambulance. "All of you are going to get checked out." Hotchner informs them as the paramedics make their way towards Elle and Gideon. "Morgan went in the first ambulance." He adds as he J.J. and Reid head towards the SUV. "We'll meet you there." Gideon merely nods as he lets the paramedics do what they have to.

"I don't even want to think about what could have been if you didn't show up when you did." Elle watches over his shoulder as their un-sub is taken to the station by McNeil and his team. "Thank you." She adds as they are assisted by the paramedics into the back of the ambulance and taken to the hospital. "I suppose it's all in a days work." She adds, taking a breath.  
---

Glad to put the nearly twenty-four hours of hell behind her, Elle enters her home and heads to the kitchen to make something light to tie her over until morning, it is after all almost nine o'clock and she knows that something heavier would probably keep her up all night dreaming. After clearing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, she heads upstairs for a long bath before bed. The stress of the day seem to come off easily enough, however, the feeling of his lips upon hers, the weight of his body as it shifted over hers is enough to make her stomach churn. Setting her thoughts to something happier, she heads to her bedroom to change into her nightgown and get some much-needed sleep. Elle finds that it will be a better night tonight as she welcomes the embrace of a good nights sleep.

Arriving at work the next morning, she is happy to find Morgan sitting at his desk, once again up to his eyeballs in paperwork and Reid as per the norm, huddled over his computer, working on some report of other.

"Good morning." She holds out the cardboard cup holder towards her co-workers. "I come bearing the gift of caffeine." Reid carefully takes one and Morgan follows.

"Morning Elle. I didn't get the chance to ask how you are." He takes a sip of coffee and puts the cup on his cluttered desk.

"The doctors said that I will live. Physically, things are fine, emotionally I will admit will take a bit of work to get back in check." Removing her jacket, she sits in her seat. "How about you? You took a pretty hard hit."

"They stitched me up. No big deal really." he chuckles as Gideon exists his office.

"Good morning Elle." He plants himself beside her desk, a folder in his hands. "I'm going to the station to question Ben Stewart." He pauses. "You okay?" his eyes soften and she takes a moment before nodding her response.

"I'll be fine." Her reply is simple and convincing even in her own ears. She knows that she does not have to tell him to make sure that he nails Ben to the wall. He already knows and probably even plans to do just that, in the metaphorical sense at the very least that will have to be enough.


End file.
